


Found You In The Nick of Time

by el3anorrigby



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Hurt Napoleon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Movie Reference, Pre-Slash, Protective Illya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el3anorrigby/pseuds/el3anorrigby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That missing scene from the movie (which has been done numerous times before) where Illya finds Napoleon with Rudi after being tortured in the chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found You In The Nick of Time

“Are you alright?”

Napoleon rubs at his raw and reddened wrists once Illya unstraps him from the torture chair. His head hurts, his whole body throbs and aches and he feels like his heart is about to fail him. Blood still trickles from his nose. He feels he might just succumb to Rudi's torture and pass out, but he wills himself, manages to hum in acknowledgement to Illya's question.

But the Soviet spy is not convinced. When he had seen Napoleon through the glass, strapped onto that chair with his body arching slightly in fear when Rudi had threatened to step on that pedal, his blood had boiled. Truth be told he almost wanted to kill the old man as soon as he’d walked into the room but a little tiny bit of rational thinking had prevented him from breaking Rudi’s neck when he’d rambled on about his pliers. He had, however, knocked him unconscious before dumping him to the floor like a piece of rag doll. 

“Solo?” he asks Napoleon again, one hand slowly finding its way on the American’s shoulder. Napoleon gestures with one finger, asking Illya to give him a minute for his body to adjust but despite his best efforts, his eyes are still closed, his brows furrowed together. Air still puffs from his slightly parted lips. He looks terribly exhausted and Illya feels cold anger seeps through his veins. "Cowboy, talk to me," he tries again.

“You came back for me,” Napoleon finally croaks, his voice raw and throaty. 

It's a rhetorical question but Illya wants to answer him nevertheless. "Of course. I had to. Can't leave you behind like this." 

Napoleon believes Illya's simply returning a favour, for he had saved him from drowning the night before. Perhaps he wouldn't have come if it hadn't been for that. 

"How, how did you find me?”

“My trackers,” Illya answers, thankful Napoleon had failed to locate a particular one. “You're very detailed, Cowboy, but you missed the ones in your shoes.”

“Thank you,” Napoleon murmurs. However, he still hasn’t made any effort to get up, his body too weak to cooperate, his chest still heaving. Illya recognises Napoleon is in pain, and this, somehow, upsets him. Without further hesitation, he then carefully cradles Napoleon's face in his hands and wipes the crimson away from his nose and mouth with his bare fingers, brushes the strands of damp sweaty hair off his forehead. Then he loosens his tie and undo the button of his shirt from around his neck. 

“Peril,” Napoleon moans and grabs at one of Illya’s wrists. He opens his eyes to see Illya peering at him with concern.

“I’ll be alright. Though a few minutes more and I’d have been fried for good. Thought I was a goner.”

“Do not talk like this,” Illya interrupts. “Can you stand?”

He’s trying his best to sound unperturbed although his frightening worry for the American’s condition startles even himself. Who is this Napoleon Solo, someone who has succeeded in bringing out the rarest of emotion from Illya?

“Cowboy, can you stand?” Illya repeats himself and Napoleon only nods at his question, the only thing he could manage to do after all. 

Illya’s hands hold on to his arms as he tries to stand on his feet, careful not to aggravate any unnecessary injury Napoleon might already suffer from. It surprises Napoleon how he could invoke such tenderness from this brooding, angry KGB spy who before today, Napoleon could only associate to pure violence and rage. They have only been working together for a week yet the combination of concern and anger that’s currently showing on Illya’s face makes Napoleon feel like he actually cares, it is almost surreal.

Once he is off that damn chair, Napoleon tries to walk but a muffled groan escapes his lips when the room suddenly spins, his head swarmed with dizziness. He clenches his eyes shut, falls forward but Illya’s arms are quick to catch him, moves around his torso to steady him before he could fall to the ground. Napoleon leans his forehead on Illya’s shoulder, his shaky fingers clutching hard on to his arms. 

“Sorry, Peril, just—just need a moment,” he murmurs into Illya’s shirt. 

“I’m going to kill you for this,” Illya growls, threatens a frightened looking Rudi who is now awake and slumped on the floor behind Napoleon. The older man whimpers. His wrists and ankles are tied after Illya had make quick work of him earlier on. But Illya swears he deserves to be in a lot more pain after what he had done to Napoleon. 

“Leave him be, Peril,” Napoleon says.

“He has hurt you,” Illya argues. “I will not stand for what he has done.”

Napoleon does not have any witty words for Illya, his chest tightening somewhat hearing Illya’s scathing angry words. He realises he is still holding onto the Russian for support. Slowly he lets go of Illya although he wishes he could slump longer in his comforting embrace. He then turns to see Rudi on the floor, a man helplessly scared, unlike the maniacal one who had been all confident and proud displaying his torture album while Napoleon had been tied up.

“Peril,” Napoleon calls to his partner. “We might get something out of him. Question him about the Vinciguerras. He might still be useful.”

Illya cannot argue with Napoleon, so he grunts in agreement before pulling Rudi roughly up to his feet. After ensuring Napoleon is alright and asking him to lean against the wall while he takes care of Rudi, Illya quickly bundles the older man onto the torture chair, straps him up and without giving a second thought, without any warnings, he presses his foot down hard on the pedal. Rudi screams a pathetically high pitched yell when the electric current jolts through his body. Illya's eyes grow round with shock at what he is seeing, and the realisation of what Napoleon had endured dawns on him like a tonne of bricks.

“Peril, no! Wait!” 

Seeing Rudi in pain, Napoleon flinches, almost pleads. “Illya, let’s talk this through, okay? Let’s think about what we should do next.”

Illya stops, finally stops, and takes his foot off the pedal, kicks the chair for good measure. He growls, grits his teeth. His hands are trembling. He then turns to Napoleon who looks a little pale and shaky. Illya curses himself. The image of Rudi arching, screaming in pain must have been painful for Napoleon and this just makes Illya even angrier. Quickly, he pulls his partner by his elbow, ushers him out to the next room before closing the door behind them, leaving Rudi a whimpering mess and heaving on the torture chair alone. But before Napoleon could react or say anything, Illya is already backing him up against the wall, steadies him against it. Napoleon is shocked at his actions but he plays along with Illya, listens to what he has got to say.

“He did _that_ to you?! _He did that_?” Illya hisses in a quiet rage. He's visibly bristling. “For how long, Solo?” he demands whilst searching the answer in Napoleon's eyes.

Napoleon shakes his head in return. “I—I don’t know. I didn’t have the luxury of keeping time then.”

“If I had been late—”

"But you found me just in time, thanks to your trackers.”

Napoleon lets out a weak smile, tries to inject humour, despite the confusion that’s wreaking his head at the moment. He is trying to understand why the whole situation that has befallen him is upsetting Illya to a point he’s confusing Illya’s behaviour for something else, for another kind of feeling he’s not allowed to have for a fellow agent. Is this why his heart is currently thumping like mad in his chest? Perhaps the electric shock has short circuited his brain enough until he's unable to think straight. 

“He hurt you, Cowboy.”

Illya’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “Yes, he did. But I’ll be okay, I’m okay. I’m okay, now,” Napoleon tries to convince Illya despite himself. He then grabs Illya’s arms that are bracketing his body and forces Illya to look him in the eye. 

“Hey, Peril, let’s focus. The mission comes first and we need to finish it. Need to find Gaby.”

“Gaby,” Illya says finally, as if just remembering about her. “She, she betrayed us.”

He bows his head low between his shoulders. 

“There must’ve been a good reason why she’d done it,” Napoleon says, trying to be rational. 

“She nearly cost you your life,” Illya retorts, unhappy Napoleon is simply brushing off Gaby's part in the entire matter.

There is anger and hurt in his voice and Napoleon knows having sentiments are never good in their line of duty. It can cloud one's judgment, compromises missions. And they definitely do not need that kind of distraction. Especially not now, no matter how vulnerable they are at the moment at the mercy of pure emotions.

“Forget about what Gaby had done. We need to go, find her, complete this. That’s what we need to do.”

Illya acquiesces in his decision. “Yes, I understand even though I am not liking this.”

Napoleon sighs in relief, glad he’s managed to get Illya to come to his senses somehow. Not knowing how or why, he lifts a hand to cup at Illya’s face and is surprised when the Russian leans into his touch. This is the same man he had scuffled with in a men’s restroom back in Berlin, the same man he had dropped in the middle of a minefield while escaping with Gaby. The entire situation leaves Napoleon a little perplexed. There is certainly a lot they need to discuss and talk about once the entire thing is over, that is if they can complete the mission without either one of them getting killed first. 

“What about that psychopath? He’s still in there,” Illya mutters. 

When both men turn their heads towards the torture room, they are surprised to see Rudi and the torture chair, crackling, twitching, burning up in flames. They must have been in a complete trance not to have noticed what had happened.

“Huh, so he fixed the glitch,” Napoleon says, amused.

“Glitch?” Illya asks, slightly confused. “What glitch?”

Napoleon only shrugs. “I’ll explain it later, but for now, shall we go?”

“Wait, wait,” Illya stops him before he could move, grips his arm tightly. “Are you sure you are okay now? Because if you’re not, this mission is at risk. Just because my partner is dying on the job.”

“The only reason you’re worried about, Peril? The mission?”

"Of course," Illya mutters. "No other reason." 

Suddenly they are bickering again, and Illya’s scowl, the one he is used to seeing directed at him, is back. Napoleon smiles. When Illya opens his mouth to say something nasty, Napoleon quickly cuts him off.

“I’m fine, Peril,” Napoleon reassures him. “Trust me.”

“And _you will tell me_ if you feel any pain, discomfort, trouble breathing. You will tell me, Cowboy,” Illya says, adding on, as if wanting Napoleon to make a promise, at the same time subtly letting him know his worry is not about the mission, but _Napoleon_.

Napoleon tilts his head at his partner, processing his words. He wants to say, _‘I’ll let you know that my goddamn heart is palpitating right now and it’s not because of Rudi’s shock treatment'_ but in the end he nods and simply says, “Deal, Peril.”

And then they leave with Illya still mindful of Napoleon’s ordeal and he is just glad he had managed to find him on time because, even though he is too scared to admit it, he wouldn’t have known how to deal with the fact if he had been a minute too late.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. After watching the movie again for the umpteenth time, I noticed during the torture scene when Illya's standing by door, just before Rudi rambled on about the pliers, you could see it on his face that he's angry when he'd seen Napoleon in that chair. And his voice when he'd said 'You doing okay, Cowboy?' there's definitely tenderness in it. 
> 
> 2\. Napoleon should've suffered more based on the time frame he'd been electrocuted. He shouldn't have been able to stand and be that steady (that's what I feel anyway.)
> 
> So, this is my take on what had happened after Illya found Napoleon. I tweaked it a bit just for fun, please don't mind me.


End file.
